Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“Jesus, Axel.” Blade frowns. “You okay, man?”
With a sigh, I reach for my Bloody and down it. “I need to call Crystal. She’s pissed.”
He snorts, reaching for one of David’s cigarettes. “She’s always pissed.”
“This time, she’s in the right,” I mumble, looking up as the prospect I sent for Bloodys barrels in with a pitcher.
“Yeahhh… Amy hooked us up.”
I motion for him to pour us some as I light up a cigarette and scroll through the rest of my messages. Strangely there’s not one from Derrick. This should make me happy. Instead the headache the cocaine took away minutes ago returns.
“Anyone hear from Derrick?”
I take another deep breath, reaching for my fresh Bloody and dumping out some more coke. David and Blade look at each other.
“What?” I lower my head to snort, then sit back and look at them.
“Nothing, brother. Carry on.” Blade nods, takes a deep inhale, and puts the cigarette out. Eve hates him smoking, so he rarely does and saves it for when shit is going down.
I push on Crystal’s number. The coke is definitely helping with my guilt. When it goes to her voice mail, I grit my teeth.
I push on it again. This time it rings. “Good morning, Axel.” Her voice is clipped.
“Crystal, I’m sorry. Last night got crazy—”
“No problem. I took care of everything. In fact, if you aren’t feeling up to it tonight, don’t worry about it.” My finger, which has been tracing a large crack in the wooden table stops.
“What the hell? I said I was sorry. I’ll be in tonight.” My body’s on edge. What has she done that she doesn’t want me to find out about?
She lets out a laugh and I hear girls giggling. Making myself relax, I decide to lay off the coke—it’s making me paranoid. I mean, what could she have done?
“Okay, whatever you feel’s best. I’ve got it handled. I do need to go. I’m training the new girls.” Her voice sounds way too cheerful.
And that’s it.
“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about them. There’s one named Cookie. She is a definite no. I think she’s crazy. So, if you hired her, fire her.” I glance over at Blade who’s at the window talking with David and Rip.
They stop and turn to look at me. I almost throw my phone at the wall. Instead I repeat, “Crystal, did you hear me? I’m not fucking around about this.”
“Axel, I have to remind you that I have final say but…” I’m about to go off on her when she says, “That being said, I did not hire a Cookie.”
I lean back in the chair, my hand rubbing my chest. Because for a split second I’m disappointed and that’s fucking absurd. I close my eyes and there she is, my ethereal princess seducing me. Dancing for me.
“Got to go.” Crystal’s voice brings me back to the now. Clearly all my self-medicating has done nothing to get rid of her.
“So, no Cookie?”
“Nope. No one by that name. Get some rest, Axel. You sound tired.” The line goes dead.
I lean forward for the pitcher and pour myself another Bloody Mary only to hear Blade say, “Pussycat. All of us tonight.”
ANTOINETTE
I’m exhausted and my night hasn’t even started. I got up early this morning to walk to the restaurant I used to work at and happily quit.
They seemed fine with it and gave me my final paycheck. I went to the bank and deposited it, which allowed me enough money to buy some black stripper heels. On impulse, I bought a red wig. It was 60 percent off and I splurged. I keep telling myself it’s an investment, so I don’t feel guilty.
The only downside of my day was that I needed to talk to Ryan, my landlord. The jerk wouldn’t open his door and I know he was there. I heard his crappy music playing. I pounded on his door for a solid ten minutes. When the music got louder, I slipped a note under his door explaining that I need more time to get him his money. I know he said tomorrow, but that’s ridiculous. He needs to be reasonable.
Closing my eyes, I roll my neck, my poor muscles screaming in protest. I barely got a shower in when Crystal called, demanding I come in for a crash course on pole dancing.
I breathe through the pain. Swinging on a pole is way harder than it looks. Lifting my leg up to my ear, I stretch. This particular move always centers me.
My eyes sweep the club. It’s crowded with a lot of men. The trendy outfits and suits reek of money. Girls are dancing, waitresses are laughing and delivering drinks, and music is pulsing almost as if it’s an extra heartbeat.
“I’m gonna puke. What about you?” Frenchie, one of the other new girls, grabs my arm as she looks out at the club. Her wide-eyed look tells me she’s terrified.